Parthian Dawn

by Peter Darman

  ‘This, Lord Rsan, is the type of sword I desire, very useful when you want to get cosy with your enemy.’

  Rsan’s eyes were wide with alarm.

  ‘No slashing with this little fellow, just three inches into an enemy’s guts a few times will spill his innards without any fuss.’

  ‘Thank you, Domitus,’ I said, ‘there’s no need to alarm my treasurer.’

  Domitus smiled at Rsan and sheathed his blade. ‘Just stressing that my legion needs weapons if it is to keep the city, and your treasury, safe.’

  His smile disappeared when he heard the bell in the courtyard being rung frantically. I followed two paces behind him as we raced from the armoury and onto the flagstones. I saw Nergal on his horse with a dozen of his men behind him and one of the guards beside him ringing the bell. Around us other soldiers were spilling out of the barracks to form up, while the gates of the Citadel were being closed. Gallia and Praxima appeared on the palace steps, followed by Godarz.

  Nergal saw me and saluted. ‘Agraci war band approaching the city. I was returning from the training fields when a party of Domitus’ men alerted us to their approach. I have ordered the Palmyrene Gate to be closed.’

  The garrison had formed up by now — a hundred legionaries and fifty Parthians, the latter on horseback armed with bows. Gallia’s score of Amazons formed the end of the line.

  I pointed at Domitus. ‘Stay here with your men. Nergal, we will ride out to meet them.’

  I ran towards the stables to saddle Remus. Gallia followed me.

  ‘I’m coming too.’

  We rode through the city and out through the reopened Palmyrene Gate west towards the approaching foe, all of us armed with bows and swords. I was wearing my helmet and leather cuirass. Gallia’s Amazons were clad in their mail shirts and helmets, while Nergal’s Parthians were similarly attired. We galloped past the legion’s camp, the men standing to arms, and saw a great mass of black-clad horsemen in front of us. So Haytham had chosen war instead of peace. As we slowed and riders to my left and right rode forward to form into line, I must confess that I was greatly disappointed. No matter, we would soon scatter these Agraci. Then I reached behind me, pulled my bow from its case and extracted an arrow from my quiver. The others did the same as we slowed our horses to a walk and then halted them. The Agraci were about a quarter of a mile distant. They also appeared to have slowed. In fact they had halted. They made no move to get into any formation. No doubt they would attack us in one great, disorganised mass.

  I raised my bow in the air to signal the advance; everyone responded in a like manner. Gallia was at my side, arrow in her bowstring. I nudged Remus with my knees and he began to move forward. Ahead I saw that one of the Agraci was also moving towards us, though he appeared to be the only one. We continued our advance, moving into a trot, when Gallia suddenly called out.

  ‘It is Prince Malik.’

  I instinctively halted Remus.

  ‘What?’

  Gallia had taken off her helmet and was pointing at the lone horseman approaching, with his hand raised.

  ‘It is Prince Malik, Pacorus.’

  ‘Halt, halt!’ I screamed, and my riders pulled up their mounts. Gallia was right, it was Prince Malik, and the fact that he was riding alone ahead of his men indicated that he was not here to fight. I rode up and down my line of riders.

  ‘Stand down, stand down.’

  I put away my bow as Malik approached. Gallia was advancing to meet him as I joined her until we halted a few paces from the prince.

  Malik removed his turban and bowed his head. ‘Greetings, King Pacorus, Queen Gallia.’

  I raised my hand to him in salute. ‘Greetings, Prince Malik. You come well accompanied.’

  He looked back to his group of riders, who must have numbered over three hundred. ‘Indeed, my apologies if we appear warlike. My father thought it wise to send me with a strong escort. There are those among your lords who are still at war with us, I think.’

  ‘How are your father and sister?’ asked Gallia.

  ‘They are well, and Rasha sends you her greetings.’ He looked at me. ‘I bring a message from my father, lord king, that there shall be peace between you and him.’

  At that moment I could have soared like an eagle. ‘This is most excellent news, Prince Malik, you must come back to Dura with me to refresh yourself.’

  He suddenly looked solemn. ‘And my men?’

  ‘They are welcome too, as are all Agraci in my kingdom.’

  So we rode back to the city, three hundred Agraci warriors following us. When we entered the city people fled in terror at the sight of them, women scooping children up in their arms and racing back to their homes. Malik diplomatically ignored their shrieks of alarm and some curses. When we reached the Citadel he looked back at the city.

  ‘I fear it will take a long time before old enmities are forgotten.’

  ‘We have made a start, Malik,’ I assured him, ‘and that is the important thing.’

  He stayed for two days, though most of his men rode back to Palmyra that afternoon. The next day I showed him round the Citadel and then the city. He had a keen mind and an agreeable manner, and did much in his short visit to dispel many old prejudices about the Agraci being bloodthirsty, mindless barbarians. In any case his race meant nothing to Domitus, who was a Roman, or to Godarz, who had spent many years as a slave in Italy and who had only a distant recollection of the Agraci. I noticed that Rsan made himself scarce, but no matter. And of course Gallia admired him greatly. We gave a feast in his honour that night. Malik sat on my right side at the top table. Also in attendance were Domitus, Godarz, Nergal and Praxima. Malik was fascinated by the notion of Gallia’s Amazons.

  ‘And are the stories about you true, majesty, that you and your women have fought in battle?’

  ‘Of course,’ replied Gallia. She pointed at Praxima sitting next to Nergal. ‘Praxima over there is my second-in-command and is a fearsome warrior on the battlefield.’

  ‘And you do not mind your wife being placed in such danger?’ he said to me.

  ‘When I first met her we were always in danger, surrounded as we were by our enemies.’

  He looked down at his cup. ‘You were slaves.’

  ‘It’s true,’ I said, ‘and I have never forgotten that time.’

  ‘Do you burn to avenge the wrongs committed against you, by the Romans, I mean?’

  ‘We killed our fair share of Romans in Italy,’ said Gallia casually.

  ‘And if they stray near my kingdom we will kill some more,’ I added.

  He looked at Domitus. ‘And yet a Roman is one of your trusted commanders.’

  ‘Yes,’ I said, ‘I trust him with my life.’

  ‘It is most curious.’

  ‘They were curious times, Malik. But tell me,’ I said, ‘why did your father agree to my proposal?’

  He considered for a moment. ‘Because you gave him back his daughter and because you treated him as an equal. And I think that made a great impression upon him.’

  ‘And so he is,’ I said, ‘for he is a king.’

  ‘Not all Parthians think like you do, majesty.’

  Chapter 6

  With peace agreed upon Malik returned to his people and I began to plan for the future. The first task was to equip the legion. To this end, two large brick buildings were purchased on the other side of the Citadel’s northern wall. Each building was rectangular in shape and gradually filled with workshops, furnaces, anvils, tools and quenching troughs. I told Godarz to send word far and wide that Dura was looking to hire the best armourers and blacksmiths that money could buy. Soon men from Syria, Judea and a host of Parthian kingdoms were presenting themselves at the Citadel. Godarz organised their hiring and Rsan their pay. When my treasurer complained about the cost I told him that the taxes from the markets would help pay for them. In this I was proved correct, for with the cessation of the Agraci raids commerce began to return to the city. Anyone was free to come to
Dura and trade their wares, as long as they paid for the hire of a stall in the market. The latter was held in the city’s main square, halfway between the Citadel and the Palmyrene Gate, and was open every day. Domitus’ men kept order and Rsan’s clerks collected duties from each stall. The treasury began to fill. The generosity of the kings who had attended my wedding also helped to equip my army. As wedding presents Gotarzes sent iron, Farhad and Aschek bronze, while Balas sent me two hundred tons of wood to make shields and javelin shafts. The load was floated down the Tigris and then transported on carts via Hatra to Dura. Finally, Vardan sent me two thousand hides.

  But commerce within the kingdom was only one half of my plan to swell the kingdom’s revenues. To really fill the treasury, Dura needed the caravans from the East. So I instructed Byrd to ride to Palmyra and then to Judea and south to Egypt and spread the word that I needed bridge builders. A month later he returned with a bald-headed man with black make-up around his eyes who presented a scroll with Greek writing upon it from his king, called a pharaoh. The scroll attested to his skills as a builder of bridges. The man also spoke Greek. I showed him the Euphrates from the palace’s terrace. Though the river was wide at this point, in the middle of the waterway, just north of the city, was an island shaped liked a spear blade. The Egyptian pointed at the island. ‘Bridge should go from this bank to the island, then from island to the far bank, divinity.’

  ‘The water is deep at this point.’

  He shook his head. ‘No matter, divinity. I build pontoon bridge, lay planks across a row of boats. Easy to maintain and safe, and when the wood rots you can replace it quickly.’

  We obtained material for the bridge from the many riverine woods, called huweijat, that hugged the banks of the Euphrates. Domitus sent his centuries far up and down river armed with axes to cut down the trees. The wood was loaded onto barges and floated downstream or rowed upstream to Dura, where carpenters under the Egyptian’s watchful eye constructed the road of planks and the vessels that would support them. The caravans would be able to cross the river immediately north of Dura and then take the road to Palmyra. If they so desired they could camp for the night near the city before continuing their journey.

  Domitus’ legionaries unloaded the wood and carried it to the workshops. The barges for the pontoon bridge were assembled along the riverbank, a host of carpenters sawing, planing and hammering the beams and planks into place. As the spring gave way to early summer I liked to lend them a hand, unloading tree trunks from barges and hauling them by rope to the benches that the Egyptian had set up under canvas roofs a hundred paces or so from the water. Nergal also liked to pitch in and the two of us, stripped to the waist and covered in sweat, would struggle to lift a thick log from a barge and pull it to where it could be stacked with others to dry out before it was worked on.

  ‘Come on, your majesty,’ bellowed Domitus, dressed in helmet and mail shirt, his cane in his hand, ‘put your back into it. You too, Lord Nergal. Otherwise the both of you will be pulling extra guard duties for the rest of the week.’

  The other legionaries around us grinned to each other as their commander took great delight in pouring scorn on our efforts.

  ‘You see boys, years in the saddle makes you soft.’

  We pulled another thick log from the barge and let it fall onto the bank. Unfortunately it fell into the mud and splattered us. We got into a worse mess when we had to manhandle the log out of the grime, which caked our leggings and torsos in mud. We secured a rope around one end and then the two of us hauled it to where the others were stacked. We stood panting, bent over, our hands on our knees.

  ‘Only another few dozen to go, majesty.’ Domitus was having great fun.

  I looked at the river, where at least a dozen barges were waiting to be unloaded, each one piled high with wood.

  The appearance of Gallia and Praxima interrupted our work, the two of them riding to the water’s edge. Domitus raised his cane in salute.

  ‘You look disgusting,’ said Gallia.

  ‘Have you had a mud fight?’ added Praxima.

  I walked over to a table holding water jugs and filled a cup, handed it to Nergal and then filled another for myself.

  ‘Honest toil, ladies, good for the soul.’

  ‘You had better come to the Citadel,’ said Gallia, ‘there is something you should see.’

  ‘Oh, what is it?’

  ‘You should see for yourself,’ she replied. ‘And clean yourself up first.’

  ‘You too, Nergal,’ said Praxima.

  We washed ourselves in the river and then we all rode back to the Citadel. The courtyard was filled with horsemen, all on well-groomed mounts fully armed with bows, quivers and swords. Their tunics were a multitude of bright colours and their saddles were trimmed with silver and gold strips. Their harnesses were made of fine red and black leather, and the tails on their horses were all plaited. They numbered a score and they looked magnificent. As I halted Remus I suddenly recognised them. Of course, they had been the captives, the sons of Dura’s nobles. I also saw the look of disbelief on their faces as they stared at my appearance. Then they dismounted and knelt before me.

  Gallia had halted Epona beside me. ‘They have come back to serve you.’

  ‘Get up, get up all of you,’ I shouted. ‘You are all most welcome.’

  Nergal organised their stabling and accommodation in the barracks and that evening we all ate in the banqueting hall. Each one presented himself to Gallia and me. They certainly looked much changed since I had last seen them. They were aged between the late teens and early twenties. I told them that I intended to create a force of cataphracts and they would thus become armoured horsemen. They seemed very pleased with this as they already had their horses. All that was required was the armour.

  ‘That will be difficult, Pacorus.’ Godarz was scratching his head, which I noticed was going bald. ‘The armouries are already at full capacity making mails shirts, shields and helmets for the legion, and now you want more armour.’

  ‘The sons of the nobles brought money with them, did they not?’

  ‘Oh yes, enough to keep them and their horses for a year, but not enough to purchase suits of armour for themselves and their horses. And another thing, we will have to obtain leather vests for the legionaries to wear between their mail armour and tunics.’

  ‘Why?’

  He looked at me with a knowing look in his eye. ‘When you decided that you wanted your own legion, you forgot that we are no longer in Italy.’

  ‘Of course I didn’t,’ I said irritably.

  ‘Oh yes you did. This is Parthia, and in Parthia and the East in general horse archers are more prevalent than mail-clad foot soldiers.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘So, my young king, if the legion goes into battle it will be subjected to heavy arrow fire from horse archers. Mail armour is very good as protection against slashing or blunt weapon attacks, but not as effective as a defence against arrows. Give your legionaries leather vests under their mail and they will have maximum protection.’

  I sighed loudly. ‘I see.’

  He rubbed his head again. ‘Indeed. So five thousand leather vests are needed as well. So you see, armour for your cataphract project is quite out of the question, even with Vardan’s generous gift. And each cataphract will also need two squires to serve him.’

  In fact, Godarz had been too pessimistic when it came to leather. It proved easy to obtain, as the royal estate, my estate that was located south of the city, had vast herds of pigs, goats and sheep. The mail proved more difficult and expensive to produce. Not only did we have to purchase the bronze and steel from which the armour was made, but also hire the armourers and metal workers to create the mail shirts. Watching the latter being made was truly a wondrous experience. Each suit comprised around twelve thousand riveted links alternated with a similar number of punched rings. On average it took forty hours of labour to produce one mail shirt that reached down to mid-thigh. Godarz had t
wo hundred metal workers and a hundred armourers working in shifts night and day.

  The one thing that would decide whether I could raise and finance my army would be the willingness of the trade caravans to risk the trip through Agraci territory to Syria and then south to Egypt. The economics made perfect sense, for to undertake such a trip would save at least a month in time. Most caravans came from Ctesiphon and Seleucia and then headed north to Hatra, thence to Antioch and then Syria, before making the long journey south via Damascus and Tyre to Egypt. I sent messages to the trade envoys based in Hatra that if they wanted to do business with Egypt, then Dura should be their destination. This would not be taking revenues from my father’s coffers, for the caravans would have to pay duties to Hatra anyway before they reached Dura.

  The pontoon bridge was finished now. The Egyptian was most pleased with his project, as was I.

  ‘Bridge very strong, divinity, will last a thousand years.’

  ‘Just thirty of forty will suffice,’ I said.

  A month passed and I was growing increasingly concerned that my efforts had been in vain, but then one morning, as the sun shone on the blue waters of the Euphrates, a row of camels appeared on the horizon. Though word was sent to me at the palace I had already spotted it from the terrace, and both Gallia and I raced to the stables to fetch our horses. Like excited children we rode to the bridge, followed by Godarz and Rsan, who were also in an agitated state.

  The merchant who owned the camels was a small wiry man of Oriental appearance, with a thin moustache that had waxed ends. He wore a black cloth cap on his head and red sandals on his feet that rose into a point at his toes. His steps were short and quick, and when we were introduced to him he held his hands clasped to his chest and smiled a great deal.

  ‘My name is Li Sung and I have a consignment of silk to sell to the Pharaoh of Egypt,’ his Parthian was impeccable.

  I stood before him with Rsan and Godarz. ‘Greetings, Li Sung,’ I bowed my head to him, ‘you are most welcome.’

  As his thirty camels, their attendants and guards crossed over the bridge, I walked beside him.